Songs&Memories&Fics ENG
by MookieRoo
Summary: Series of oneshots written for the #Songs&Memories&Fics Challenge. 1. Jori - I want to be like you / 2. Jori - One More Try [NEW-May 20th] /
1. I want to be like you

**Disclaimer: Victorious and it's characters don't belong to me, neither does the song. It's just a reference.**

 **Oneshot:** Jori **  
Song:** I want to be like you - The Jungle Book OST

* * *

He used to come in the mornings, darkness still covered the whole room. Yet he didn't need a light to find his way, he instinctively knew exactly where she was.

"Mommy," is all he needed to say to wake Jade up, she would turn towards him and help him up the mattress and into the bed, she would place her arm beneath his head and cover him up, while filling his head with kisses.

There were nights where he only came into our room to fall right back to sleep, others that he was feeling talky and asked for a story, he would play with Jade's face until she decided on one and started telling it.

Like the good actress that she always was, she would make voices, use her hands to make impressions, ask him to participate, she would go all out as a tale teller. Those were, probably, my favorite mornings.

Of course there would be the ones when he came in crying, he'd had a nightmare. It was always the same, he was lost somewhere, unable to find his way to Jade.

His tears would fall uncontrollably, he was agitated, scared, but still, he would look for her arms instead of mine.

I can't blame him…or her. The truth was that I abandoned them to go touring, a total of six months away from the loves of my life… for work.

On nights like that, his mommy would put his back to her chest and wrap him up with her own body. With one hand she held him close so he would feel safe, with the other one, she caressed his hair; always kissing him on his head, snoozing him back to sleep, telling him that he was okay and they were together, no one was going to break them apart.

Six months… I was gone for too long.

At his age, that's like years. He had bonded too deeply with her. They were the perfect duo.

An hour after he came into the room, at about 6:00 a.m., Jade's phone would start playing the song from The Jungle Book, _I want to be like you_. They would sing together, sometimes mumbling to it, others he would stand up in the middle of the bed and start jumping up and down; but there were the times when he would ask for two more minutes…

"Only two more, mommy!"

"Two more minutes, ¿huh?" She would ask, calling his bluff. It would actually be five, sometimes ten.

Then, she looked for weak spots under his arms and his belly, and tickled him to loud laughs, kid's laughs, you know? Almost screams of joy. When we calmed down, Jade would start again, and so on, until the time was up.

She would ask him for a good morning kiss that Luc gladly gave her, and both would disappear through the door to start the day.

My then wife, was strict. She didn't like a messy house, and right after he finished his shower, she asked him to get dressed and clean up his room while she made breakfast.

I have to say that the first time I heard that, I was outraged. I had just come back from tour and the thought that this tiny human should be doing all these things by himself, was too much for me. In my eyes, he still was the baby I left behind.

To my surprise he was very self sufficient. He dressed himself up perfectly, right after Jade dried him with the towel. He picked his cloths himself and didn't want anyone's help, not even mine.

After that, he always went to the bathroom and stepped into the small step stool to reach the comb. Walked back towards the hallway mirror and stared at it, playing with his wet hair. He arranged it to one side, then to the other; some days all the way back and others he would mess it up. He usually preferred the weekends for that hairstyle.

I once asked him why, he explained that mommy had told him he must be respectful of other people, and since his teacher didn't like a messy hair, he rather not do it.

After he was presentable he would go to his room to take out all the covers from his bed, one by one. He left them over the wooden table were he sometimes draw and played with legos, then, he carefully stretched the sheets from both sides and, when it was perfect, he brought back the covers and pillows and made his bed, all by himself.

I was so proud of my four year old, when in fact, I should have been more thankful to the one that shaped him into a responsible and independent young kid.

Not long after that, Jade would call him from the kitchen. Everything smelled amazing, scrambled eggs with toasts on Mondays and Fridays, a bowl of fruit everyday and juice or milk. That was left to his liking.

Jade never gave him one cookie for lunch, or a bag of chips, or soda. His lunchbox consisted on a fruit —an apple or a pear—, always a juice box or a milk carton; at times yogurt and a roast beef sandwich with lettuce and tomato on whole-grain bread or in it's absence a wrapped pita with chicken and vegetables. Nothing too processed, nothing too heavy or with too much sugar. She was very careful about that.

"Ten more minutes for the bus to be here. Come on, hurry up and go brush your teeth," she used to tell him as she cleaned the kitchen.

Soon enough he was down with his backpack, went straight for his lunchbox and headed for the door.

"Human cub, don't you forget my kiss!" She reminded him the days he forgot. Luc would come back running into her arms, pouted his lips into hers, and then, he would say:

" _I want to be like you_ , mommy!"

"And I… want to be exactly-like-you, Mowgli," she responded every time, only to put him down on the floor.

The honk of the bus was usually heard by then, it was a few houses away, it would be by the front of the house in less than a minute. Jade would grab his hand and take him to the sidewalk to wait.

Moments after, she stepped back into the house, picked up any mess left from the night before and started to get ready for work.

That's how, pretty much, everyday started, with love and games, with tears and laughs, with music and kisses.

That was until I came back.

* * *

 **A/N:**

This is a story that, first of all, is an extract of another story I've been working for months, and also an entry for the Challenge of _#Songs &Memories&Fics_ organized by **_rustjacque12_** and myself.

The challenge was to create a fic from a memory of one or more characters that revolved around a song. It could be a happy memory, a sad one, an angry one or a romantic one.

This is a mix between happy and sad, told from Tori's point of view.

I hope you like it and if you would like to participate, please do. The only requirement is to add a _#Songs &Memories&Fics_ on the summary.

Thanks for reading and have a nice night.


	2. One More Try

**Disclaimer: Victorious and it's characters don't belong to me, neither do the lyrics of the song. It's only a couple of quotes.**

 **Oneshot:** Jori **  
Song:** One More Try by George Michael

* * *

The first time we danced we were alone.

It was a Friday night at school, Jade and I were still practicing our monologues for Sikowitz's class final grade and it was late.

 _A reflection on love_

The subject didn't made things easy for me. What I'd written mainly spoke of her and it was strange to share the same "mandatory" rehearsal time, it was hard to express all my emotions in her presence, over and over again.

I decided to put on a light song… well, not really "that light". It was a George Michael song my father loved, he used to play it all the time when I was little. Yet, somehow it took a whole different meaning because of her.

Three months ago, we shared a kiss. It was on an improvised exercise; we were supposed to play a couple, two girls that had a quiet romance and then parted ways to be with their official boyfriends.

It was a tragedy, at least for me, because all I saw at the end of the lesson was Jade leaving, hand in hand, with Beck. I was already so confused about my feelings and right then, the fiction had turned real and it was sour.

I guess it was at that moment that I understood just how lost I was.

Young love can be so painful, probably because you are so willing, so committed to the feeling, you are also innocent and haven't been hurt before. The first time always hurts the worst, right?

There is a part of the song that goes like:

 _"… So I don't want to learn to hold you, touch you, think that you're mine…"_

I was lying on the couch of my living room that same afternoon, dad was cooking dinner and he played the whole album. When the song came by… I couldn't stop that ridiculous itch on my nose, the compression of my lungs, that oppression on my chest. I had done just what I shouldn't, fallen for the girl who walked with me on that stage, the one that held my hand with delicacy, who looked at me with love.

I know, it was all pretend, nevertheless, it felt so honest. Her breath tasted like mint, her lips were warm, soft, playful; her grip so affectionate and gentle, her eyes so blue, so deep. I had learned to love her, to see her in a different light… and I cried. I let myself mourn, because I had no chance.

The following weeks I would take my headphones everywhere, sit on a corner of the classroom and hear the song on repeat as I watched her life unfold in front of my eyes.

She was gracious, pensive; she spent most of her time… alone.

I don't know why I didn't see it before, but the golden couple was not so golden anymore. Cat spent most of the day with Robbie and Andre was busy with his advanced music classes. They had no time to even notice us.

But… I saw her… I cared… I loved.

Now, months later, on those rehearsal nights, I would put on my headphones, turn on the volume to the max and walk around, speaking only inside my head.

Sometimes I would close my eyes to feel the place better, I practiced the intention of my words at home. I hated the fact that Sikowitz had declared part of the grade to rehearse _on site_ , this was too personal for that. Well, maybe that was the point, yet I couldn't say them out loud, not in front of her, not more than once.

I finished the monologue in my head and opened my eyes just to meet her blue gaze over me, smiling. It was a sincere gesture, not a mockery.

She said something, but I still had the volume all the way up and was unable to listen to her.

"What?" I asked taking my headphones off and rested them around my neck. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you."

"Too bad," she said, getting closer, took the headset from me and disconnected my phone, leaving them over the floor. The song was still playing, now through the speakers.

Another smile.

She approached me once more, extended her hands towards mine and smoothly captured my fingers. My left one was lightly placed on her right shoulder and the other one remained locked in hers, lifted in the air. Jade wrapped my waist and started rocking me to the rhythm of the music, with her face on the side of mine.

We… were dancing.

"You smell good," she said stealing a smile I couldn't resist and it took me a little while to respond. "Shouldn't I've said that?"

"No… it's…" I mumbled, "thanks, you too."

A swing to the right, a swing to the left; going in circles around the room. We kept silent for a few more seconds.

"I didn't know you could slow dance," she whispered.

"Well, you are guiding me… maybe it's that."

"I think you know exactly what you are doing, someone must have taught you," she wondered, pulling away from my body and making me turn on my heels. "See, it's not your first time."

"It actually is," I confessed falling back in place and then recanted. "I lie, I've dance with my dad before, but never with…"

I was dumb; I was about to ruin it.

"With… someone you 'liked'?"

That statement made me nervous, the way she accentuated that last word, it implied…

"Neither have I," she completed.

"I'm sure you've danced with Beck."

"I have, but… it wasn't the same."

My heart just pounded inside my chest, surely she could hear it, I did.

Was she playing? Joking? Because her sincereness was overwhelming and… it didn't feel like a spoof.

She got even closer, rested her head on the side of my neck, placing her lips on my shoulder… I shivered.

"I don't bite."

"Said the wolf," I joked; she chuckled.

More silence fell between us. The music kept playing; our movement was soft and fluid around the stage.

"I won't," she said under her breath.

"Won't, what?" I asked softly, not wanting to break contact.

"Let you go…"

A part of the lyric jumped in my head just as I listened:

" _…Now I think it's time that you let me know. So, if you love me, say you love me. But if you don't, just let me go…_ "

Could it be any clearer?

"Would you?" She asked holding her breath, maybe expecting a _no_.

"Unless you asked me to…" I said, "maybe not even then."

She exhaled with relieve and pulled away for another turn. This time, staying face to face with me.

"I love you," she declared a bit anxious. "I have… for a while now."

Her impatience was obvious; I could see her doubts and her courage right then. Telling someone these very strong words, practically out of the blue, must not have been easy. I don't know if I could have.

I leaned in and, right before I played with our noses, I looked at her lips trembling.

"I love you," I whispered back and quiet them with mine.

At first, we kept our contact still, our bodies danced, but our mouths were fixed on one position, together. I then opened my lips to capture hers and she followed me, relaxing by the second.

The light warmth of our touch eased my thoughts; suddenly I felt the moisture of her tongue cruising to reach mine, and a shudder made her laugh.

"Why are we so nervous?" She asked. "It's not the first time we kiss."

"Maybe because this time… it's real," I hoped.

"And it will be like this from now on," she assured me.

"We'll be nervous all the time, then."

She held me tighter and sighed, "People will call us jelly and jelly," Jade joked, "I don't care, I just want to be like this… forever."

So did I.

The song played all over again and continued the cycle as we kept dancing.

It was our first dance, our first real kiss, our first _I love you_ … and we were no longer alone.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Too romantic? Why the hell not? XD

I actually like the idealization of that first true love. It's nice to be corny and filled with sweetness, not yet damaged.

It's great; I still remember my first love with certain innocence.

Well, if you like it you can leave a smiley, if you didn't a sad face is a good message; otherwise, feel free to leave anything on the review box.

See you soon.


End file.
